


The Moon Ascendant

by misura



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Dubious Consent Fantasy, Multi, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 21:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11090049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Kastor sets out to get what he wants.





	The Moon Ascendant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nabielka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nabielka/gifts).



> Jokaste/Kastor and Damen/Jokaste both actually occur on- or off-screen; Kastor/Damen only happens in Kastor's fantasy and comes connected to the One-Sided Relationship tag and the Dubious Consent Fantasy.
> 
> basically, 2k words of Kastor obsessing over Damen by hitting on his girlfriend

"He will not remain faithful to you," said Kastor. He was aware that, at some point, he had lost control of the situation, the tide of the conversation.

He had intended to be subtle, to flatter. To show that a woman might look further than the heir to the throne, if she was clever and ambitious and beautiful.

"Thus far, he has not strayed." Jokaste's smile suggested that she found him amusing, if perhaps not entirely in the way he had intended to amuse her. "Surely a man such as you would not mistake a handful of quick, easy affairs with common soldiers and village girls for anything other than the mere diversions they were."

Kastor scowled. "A handful?"

Before Jokaste, he would have said that Damen showed no discernment in his tastes at all. A rough soldier who had given him a good workout on the practice field was as likely to catch Damen's eye as the village girl who watered his horse after a hunt.

No one ever refused him, which made sense enough, given who Damen was, but even so.

_Even so._

"Price Damianos has a healthy appetite. It is to his credit," said Jokaste, her smile unwavering.

Had Damen been less skilled in battle, it might have been different. As it was, there were few things that did not come easily to Damen. Men and women, low-born or of noble blood, it did not seem to matter.

Kastor had found most of them not even a tenth as skilled as the palace slaves he himself preferred to take his pleasure from. None of Damen's former lovers had ever spurned him outright, when approached - he, too, was a king's son, after all, but in some of them, he had sensed a certain reluctance. What they had freely and generously given Damen, they gave Kastor only out of duty.

It had rather soured the experience for him, even though he told himself that it should not matter.

He wondered if it would be like that with Jokaste. He hoped not.

"I assure you, my appetite is no less healthy," Kastor said, allowing his eyes to wander where his hands would not yet be permitted to. "Although my taste may be slightly more ... discerning."

"You prefer slaves," Jokaste said, and her smile was like a knife.

"You wrong me."

"Perhaps," she allowed. "Even so, it hardly matters, does it? Enjoy the rest of your evening, Prince."

 

She had gone to Damen's rooms, of course, to Damen's bed.

In truth, Kastor had not expected differently. He had only intended to plant some seeds, to test the waters. He told himself that he had no reason for any discontent. These things took time.

He wanted, desperately, for her to have come to _his_ rooms, _his_ bed, instead of Damen's. To have her, knowing that this once, he was having something Damen had wanted for himself, something Damen had not yet cast aside.

To feel Damen's gaze on him, the next morning, going from wondering to knowing.

Kastor would look up, then, to see the hurt on Damen's face, the realization of what it felt like to be second-best. That, he thought, would be the sweetest of all.

 

"She is very beautiful, is she not?" Damen said idly.

Kastor considered pretending ignorance. He wondered what Jokaste had told Damen, and what, being a clever and ambitious woman, she had kept to herself.

He had allowed Damen to best him, in their last bout on the practice field, tying today's score between them. A small sacrifice, to ease Damen's mood in the eventuality that it had required doing so.

Some men might be inclined to anger, were they to find someone had attempted to poach on their territory. Not Damen, Kastor didn't think - not when the other man involved was his beloved brother, but Kastor had judged it best to be safe.

Thus: "Yes."

Damen smiled. They were all but alone in the baths, the slaves having withdrawn, to return when called or needed. Kastor might kill him where he was resting, and no one would arrive in time to bear witness.

"I believe she might suit you," said Damen. "Shall I withdraw and give you the field, to try your luck?"

Kastor wondered if it was confidence or generosity that had inspired Damen to make the offer. It _was_ generous, on the surface of things.

It was also an insult.

"Do you think I might only win her thus?" he asked. "Do you not think that perhaps she might prefer one prince over another?"

Damen half-rose, wet and dripping. As ever, Kastor's attention was drawn to the scar that he had given Damen, on a day that seemed long ago now.

Then, he had feared for Damen's life - or rather, for what might befall him, were Damen to die of the wound Kastor had given him. His mother had been ill-pleased. His father, Kastor remembered, had been more understanding (or less so, perhaps), saying that accidents happened, when men practiced for war.

He wondered what it might be like, to put his hands on that scar. To have Damen under him and take him the way a man might take a slave. To know that here yet again was an area in which he had bested his brother.

"I think that perhaps she does," said Damen and grinned, as if the matter was only a joke between them, something of no true importance whatsoever.

Kastor forced himself to return the grin. People said of Damen that he was enthusiastic, generous, that he cared for his partners' pleasure. They talked of these things as virtues, as more proof that Damen was fit to be king.

Kastor did not think that he would wish Damen to be enthusiastic, or generous. Mindful of Kastor's pleasure, perhaps, the way a less favored slave might strive to please a stern master.

 

"He will never make you queen."

Jokaste arched an eyebrow. "This again? One would think that you had no dreams or ambitions of your own, merely a desire to belittle your brother's."

"My brother doesn't have dreams. Or ambitions."

"Your brother dreams of glorious battle and of a prosperous Akielos," corrected Jokaste. "Worthy dreams, for one who will be king, provided his ambition for the first is tempered by his desire for the second."

_One who will be king._ Only Damen's death or disgrace would enable Kastor to claim that position. Some of the kyroi might prefer him over Damen even now, but not so greatly that he might be sure of their support were their father to die.

"And what of your dreams, your ambitions?" Kastor asked. "Would you have me believe that there are none? That your only wish is to please my brother so long as you will hold his interest?"

"Your brother is an easy man to please," said Jokaste. "Pleasing him is hardly a hardship."

"And what of the Lady Jokaste? Is she an easily-pleased woman?" Kastor imagined her in Damen's bed, in Damen's arms. Imagined Damen taking her as he had taken village women and pleasure slaves.

To Damen, there probably was little difference. Anyone he took to his bed, he would strive to please.

Jokaste's smile held less of an edge this time. "Your brother pleases me well enough. For now."

_For now._

"I am not in the habit of procuring used goods that have been discarded by their previous owners," Kastor said, striving to sound cold even as his temper began to run hot.

He wondered if he should mention that Damen had all but offered her to him, the way a man might offer another man the use of a horse or a slave.

"That is not what the rumors say," said Jokaste. She smiled again, as if to show him that he was so far beneath her that he lacked any capability of insulting her.

"I would hope that a woman of your intelligence would know better than to put much stock in rumors."

"Flattery. How novel." Jokaste's expression was bored, her smile vanished.

_My brother would throw you aside in a heartbeat if I told him I wished it._ To do so would gain him nothing, of course. A moment's satisfaction only.

"You mean nothing to him," said Kastor. "You're deluding yourself if you think otherwise."

"Now you sound like a jealous lover," Jokaste said.

 

Damen was sympathetic and a little amused. "Women can be difficult sometimes," he said, as if he had any experience in the matter whatsoever. "One time, Nikandros - "

"Fuck Nikandros," said Kastor. He reflected Damen probably had, or wanted to, at least.

Nikandros would surely spread for him. Not for Kastor, who was only the second prince, after all. Men did not spread for those they considered their inferiors, and Kastor knew quite well the regard in which he was held by Damen's closest friend.

Damen looked hurt, rather than offended. "Nikandros is my friend, and a good man. A skilled soldier."

"Nikandros doesn't like me, and the feeling is mutual."

"Well, it's not like he's the only one who does that, is it?" Damen's grin held no edge whatsoever. "Although in the Lady Jokaste's case, the feeling seems to be less mutual."

"She is very beautiful."

"So you have said before." Damen's expression turned a little more serious. "But, Kastor, there are many beautiful women. Why not speak with one of them, see if she might like you better? Or take a pleasure slave to your bed, if that is all you want. I don't like to see you make yourself unhappy."

_You're the one who makes me unhappy._ Damen would never understand. Could never understand. "Do you love her?" Kastor asked. _Does she tell you she loves you?_

Men and women might say a great many things inside the bedroom that were not necessarily true outside of them.

"You know, I think I might." Damen's tone suggested that he had hardly considered the matter. "She'd make a good queen, don't you think? A fitting enough match, even if none of her relatives are kyroi."

There had been talk, once, of a foreign marriage alliance, but Akielos's ties with Patras were not in any desperate need of strengthening. Akielos's ties with Vere might be, depending on your point of view, yet Kastor knew that even if there had been a princess available, their father would not have considered such a match. Not after Marlas and quite possibly not before, either.

"I will not give up. Not yet," said Kastor. "If you will permit me."

Damen gestured lazily. "Of course. You don't need to ask my permission."

 

Perhaps, Kastor thought, it would not be Damen taking Jokaste. Perhaps it might be the other way around. There were ways, he knew, in which a woman might take her pleasure from a man while denying him his own.

He did not think Damen would object to being used so, provided he was asked at the right time, by the right person. To Damen, it would make no difference if a promise was extracted during love-making; it would still be a promise he would feel must be kept.

Damen might even enjoy it, thought Kastor. To give pleasure without being given any in return.

Of course, Damen would consider it understood that eventually, that would change. He'd view it as some sort of sport, a game with clearly defined rules. It would never occur to him that anyone might decide not to play fair, to take with no intention of giving back.

Kastor wondered how long it would take for Damen to realize that not everyone thought as he did, that the world did, perhaps, not always bend itself to Damen's will, Damen's expectations of how things should be. He wondered how long it would take to make Damen beg.

It would probably take a long time. Damen could be stubborn, when the mood took him. It would make it all that much more pleasurable to break him, of course - and Kastor would take his time. Why not, when there was no one to deny him _his_ pleasure?

He would -

"Busy?"

There were guards in front of Kastor's door, to protect him in case an intruder made it into the palace, and to keep away unwanted visitors after he had gone to bed.

Of course, a _wanted_ visitor might be allowed to pass unchallenged.

"I - " He had not been thinking of her, just now, although he suspected that she might very well think he had.

"If now is an inconvenient time, I could come back later," said Jokaste. The clothes she was wearing barely deserved the name.

They were not garments Kastor had ever seen her wear around Damen.

"No," he said, and then, as she stood there, unmoving. "Stay. Please."

She smiled and came to him, allowing the garment to slip off her body and onto the floor as she went.


End file.
